


Dead Men Can't Look Up

by daniomalley



Series: Dead Men [1]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Zombies, M/M, Whipping, soulbonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniomalley/pseuds/daniomalley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You going somewhere, Gerard?” Frank asked from where he’d sneaked up behind Gerard. Gerard stifled a groan. “I’ll come with you! Someone’s gotta stop you being eaten. Mikey’s all right, but he can barely tell one end of a rifle from the other.”</p>
<p>“Mikey’s staying here.”</p>
<p>“The hell I am!”</p>
<p>Gerard looked at Bob for help, but Bob simply looked back and said evenly, “I’m coming too.”</p>
<p>Gerard backed away from an argument he realised he couldn't win, and focused on Frank who might be more easily – well, not reasoned with, but browbeaten into submission.</p>
<p>“Don’t say it!” said Frank before he could open his mouth. “And if you try to leave without me, I’ll just follow you. You know I’ll do it.”</p>
<p>Gerard didn't want to drag his friends into the zombie apocalypse, but it was nice not to have to face everything alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Men Can't Look Up

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the fabulous girlmarauders. Written for Bandom Big Bang 2011 Wave 2, and originally posted on 7/9/11. Morganya created a mix for this fic, which can be found [here](http://daniomalley22.livejournal.com/4071.html)
> 
> This is also a '25 in one' fill for hc_bingo. The prompts are: lost childhood, suicide attempt, electrocution, hypothermia, hugs, hospital stay, blackmail, moving, insomnia, invisibility, secret identity discovered, attacked by a creature, wildcard: imprisonment, whipping/flogging, accidental mating for life, pneumonia, grief, zombie apocalypse, forced to participate in illegal/hurtful activity, possession/mind control, hostages, abandonment issues, fall from grace, bullet wounds, and minor illness.

Spencer looked at the guards standing outside the palace. They were alert and looked intimidating, but Spencer knew what he had to do. Jon and Ryan were out there somewhere, waiting for Spencer to provide the distraction. Brendon was keeping lookout for him. They had everything planned out, and now it was time to start.  
   
Spencer pulled his cap off his head and shuffled down the street, holding it low at his side. As he passed people, he held the cap out to them, asking quietly, “Spare a coin, sir? Ma’am?” He’d done this before; hunger had won out over pride a lot of seasons ago. The pedestrians hurried past him, averting their eyes. Spencer got closer to the guards, and felt the moment when they noticed him. He tensed even more, but made himself keep going until the guard nearest to him began to walk his way. Spencer hurried his steps and made as though to go past the guard, dodging away quickly when the uniformed man reached out to grab him.  
   
Getting one guard wasn’t enough; he needed both of them chase him. He turned a quick circle around the guard, ducking low and, when he judged the moment was right, sticking a foot out to trip him. The guard fell onto the steps with a shout. The other guard, who had been watching but not moving, now stepped forward and shouted, “Stop right there!”  
   
Spencer ran, not bothering to look back. He could hear footsteps pounding behind him. The cap caught the wind as he ran, and he dropped it, pushing his legs faster. For a moment he worried about Jon and Ryan and Brendon, wondered whether their part of the plan was working out, but that was all the thought he could spare them.  
   
He raced through the streets with the guards behind him, darting past random people in the street, who gasped and hurried away when they saw who was chasing him. Spencer was glad he knew the streets so well. He ran down a narrow alleyway and climbed a low fence into a small yard. He went up a staircase to a balcony and ran along it, climbing down the pole at the other end. He still hadn’t lost the guards, so he ran towards a bridge, but instead of crossing it, went around and underneath it, running a short distance along the riverbank. Up ahead were the docks, and there would be somewhere there he could hide. He raced along the busy dock and could hear the guards falling further behind.  
   
Spencer tried to get lost in the crowd but when people saw the guards coming they ducked out of the way, leaving him exposed. He turned a couple of sharp corners and hoped that he was out of sight when he yanked open the door of a shed and threw himself inside.  
   
Spencer shut the door and watched through a crack as the guards went racing part. He heaved a sigh of relief and slumped against the wall. That was when he became conscious of the unnerving feeling of being watched.  
   
Spencer began to turn around, but had barely moved when something struck him hard on the back of his head.  
   
“Hiding from someone, boy?” he heard fuzzily as consciousness began to slip away. “Bet they’ll pay well to get their hands on you.”  
   
***********  
   
Northbrook was a quiet town in a small kingdom where nothing much happened and nothing ever changed. No-one important lived there and the same family had won the Best Quilt competition at the fair for three generations. Gerard liked it that way.  
   
He and Mikey had lived in Northbrook for five years. The other inhabitants of the town still called them the newcomers, but that was okay. They had land to work on, a place to live and friends who gave help when it was needed. People here might gossip about Gerard and Mikey, those strangers who moved into the old Carter place just five years ago, but no-one looked away if they caught Gerard’s eye. No-one pretended not to see him when he went out. No-one crossed to the other side of the street to avoid him here.  
   
Things had passed in the same uneventful way for all those years, so when Colin Creswick, from the next town over, showed up one day bleeding and shouting about being attacked, it was the most excitement Northbrook had seen in... well, ever.  
   
Jamia Nestor was the one who took care of sick folks in Northbrook, so she took Colin in when he turned up, and nearly everyone in town made some excuse to pass by and gawk. Gerard heard about what had happened from Mikey, who heard about it from Frank, who heard about it when he went looking for mushrooms as he did every morning only to have Colin fall out of a tree and nearly land on him.  
   
Everyone was wondering what could have happened to Colin, who said that he had been attacked by a band of savages who hungered for the taste of human flesh and that he’d only got away by the skin of his teeth. That story was clearly nonsense, everyone agreed, and Colin was either delusional from shock or lying.  
   
Joseph Gillet and his son were dispatched to Little Hill to find out what had happened and let Colin’s family know he was safe. The round trip should have taken two hours, three at the most. But they didn’t return.  
   
By the time it was clear the Gillets were late and people were starting to wonder what had happened to them, Colin had fallen unconscious. By the time people were worrying about them enough to talk about sending out a search party, Colin had woken up again. But he woke up different.  
   
It happened when Bob was taking Colin some water. When he talked about it afterwards, he said nothing had seemed wrong at first. Colin had opened his eyes and looked at Bob. Bob had offered him some water. Then Colin lunged at him.  
   
Bob had known Colin for most of his life. As an acquaintance, not a close friend, but when the other man attacked, he didn’t know what to do. He tried to push Colin away, he explained later, and Colin tried to bite him. He snarled and tried to bite Bob’s hand. Bob had backed away, and Colin had lunged after him. So Bob had run back, run to the door and through it, slammed it and jammed a chair under the handle. He heard Colin thump against the door, but couldn’t hear him say anything. He made those awful snarling noises, but no words.  
   
Gerard hadn’t taken much notice of the gossip when Colin first arrived in town. He’d grown up in a city. The excitement of having someone unexpectedly visit from a nearby town didn’t register for him. But when he heard Bob’s story, Gerard became worried.  
   
He made Bob repeat the story twice, and then he decided he needed to go see Colin for himself. He stood in Jamia’s hallway listening to the sounds Colin was making in her spare room, and then he made Bob lift him up so he could look through the windows.  
   
“Are you done yet, Gerard? You’re getting really heavy.”  
   
“Just a minute more. Can you lift me a bit higher? It’s really hard to see.”  
   
“Are you kidding? It’s bad enough I have to put up with this sort of shit from Frank. He’s smaller than you. Right. That’s enough.”  
   
“No, Bob, don’t put me down ye- hey! I wasn’t done!”  
   
“Oh, yes you are.”  
   
Gerard glared at Bob for a second, but it wasn’t long before his expression turned serious.  
   
“So?” said Bob. “You happy now? See what you wanted to?”  
   
“No,” said Gerard. “Listen, Bob. There are a few things we need to do.”  
   
************  
   
When Spencer woke up, he didn’t know where he was. Or rather, he didn’t know how he’d gotten where he was. He was in a cell in the palace. He could tell because there was a guard in uniform watching him through the door and it was making his skin crawl. He couldn’t remember how he’d come to be here, but some scumbag out there was obviously a bit richer now for turning him in.  
   
The guard must have been given orders about what to do when he woke up, because he stopped slouching when he saw Spencer move, and marched out of sight. Spencer could hear two voices in conversation, although he couldn’t make out their words. Then the guard marched back into view and stood where he had been before.  
   
Spencer looked at the guard and the guard looked back at him. “Enjoying the view?” Spencer asked. The guard didn’t blink. “I bet this is the life you imagined when you were in soldier school,” said Spencer. “Thrilling adventures. A new town every day. Exotic locations. Glamour. Beautiful women.” The guard didn’t respond, and Spencer slouched back, discouraged.  
   
Nothing happened for what seemed like a long time. Eventually, more guards appeared, unlocked the cell and dragged Spencer out of it, and he was almost relieved to have the monotony broken. They dragged him out of the palace and out into the street. Spencer insisted he could walk under his own power but again the guards acted as though he’d said nothing at all. Spencer began to struggle against the guards once he realised where they were going, but it was pointless.  
   
They reached the marked square, and Spencer felt the first real, fierce stab of panic hit when he saw that Marax was already there, waiting for him. He’d never been this close to the Necromancer before, never felt Marax’s eyes pierce him. Marax bared his teeth in a triumphant grin as he looked at Spencer.  
   
When Marax had taken control of Akron, about a month earlier, he’d had the whipping posts erected in the middle of the square, and now the guards tied Spencer to one of them and left him standing there. That was when Marax moved, stepping in close so that he could whisper to Spencer.  
   
“You children have been causing me grief for quite some time,” he said. “Do you suppose your little friends are watching us right now? You do so often manage to see things that you are not supposed to. Well, I hope they are around to see this.”  
   
There were people in the square, shuffling past and pretending not to look. They couldn’t leave; Spencer had seen this happen before, and he knew there would be guards around making sure everyone stayed to witness another of Marax’s messages about what happened to people who crossed him. Spencer was sure Jon would be out there somewhere, watching and cloaked by his invisibility magic. Without Jon they wouldn’t have been able to pull off half their schemes. Of course, that had led to them growing overconfident this time around. Spencer would be sure to remember that lesson, if he made it out of this.  
   
“I’m going to make an example of you; let everyone see what happens to troublemakers in my city,” said Marax, and he stepped away.  
   
Spencer was half expecting it when the lash struck his back, but that didn’t help him suppress the shout that ripped from his throat. He clenched his jaw, grunting loudly at the second strike, screaming at the third. By the fourth, he’d lost count and forgotten any idea he’d had of being strong, being quiet. He wondered if Marax was going to ask him about his friends, where they hid, who helped them. He wondered if he would have the will to not answer if that happened.  
   
Fortunately, Marax didn’t do that. When it was over, and Spencer’s breathing was sort of under control again, he stepped back up to Spencer’s side.  
   
“Holding up alright there?” he asked, feigning concern. Spencer wanted to spit at him, but couldn’t find the will to even lift his head.  
   
“I do hope you are,” Marax went on. “Because you should know, that as... unpleasant as that may have been for you, I will do much, much worse if I hear even a whisper of your friends interfering with my plans again.” He raised his voice for that last part, making sure that the message was heard around the square, making sure that it reached the ears it needed to. Marax must have given a signal, because the guards returned and untied Spencer from the posts, dragging him back to the cell in the palace. This time, Spencer didn’t try to get his feet underneath him and walk.  
   
***********  
   
In the end, there just wasn’t enough time. Gerard sent Bob off to get his rifle, and Bob went with an eye roll and a half assed objection. Gerard was just glad that his friends tended to go along with it when he asked them to do things they considered strange. It made this easier.  
   
Lots of people were still hanging around Jamia’s house, and Gerard looked around for someone who might listen to him. He spotted Ray across the road, and called to him.  
   
“Ray! Hey, Ray!”  
   
Ray walked across to Gerard, with an inquisitive expression.  
   
Gerard was trying to think of something to say, something that wouldn’t sound completely ridiculous, when a scream pierced through the air. People in the street froze and looked in the direction of the noise. There was a brief moment of silence, and then more screams. More than one person was screaming now. People started moving; some backed away but others hurried towards the commotion.  
   
“It’s started,” said Gerard.  
   
“What’s started?” Ray asked.  
   
“They’re here,” said Gerard, not very helpfully. “We need weapons. Where’s your axe?”  
   
“What’s going on?” Ray demanded, but Gerard was already moving away from him. He ducked into Jamia’s house and borrowed her lantern. Then he hurried down the street, to where the shouts and cries had grown even more urgent and numerous.  
   
“Gerard? What’s happening?” Ray pressed, falling into step beside Gerard. Gerard was relieved to see that he had picked up an axe, not his own but the one Jamia kept by her woodpile.  
   
Gerard glanced at Ray from the corner of his eye, wondering how he would react if Gerard told him the truth. “The town is under attack,” he said, “By zombies.”  
   
“By _what_?”  
   
“The living dead.”  
   
“I know what... are you actually serious?”  
   
“Colin was just the first to be turned. He must have got away somehow before he was incapacitated.”  
   
“Gerard, this doesn’t make a bit of sense...” Ray’s denial trailed off as they turned a corner and were confronted with a horrible scene. There was a huge crowd of people in the street, fighting and trying to get away. A moment’s observation allowed Gerard to pick out the ones who were doing the attacking, the ones who were moving just a bit oddly, the ones who had wounds that might have been caused by bites.  
   
Some of the zombies began to lurch in Gerard and Ray’s direction. Gerard opened the lantern and flames burst from it, lighting the nearest zombie on fire and causing the others to stumble back. Gerard skirted around the melee, sending flames from the lantern towards any zombie which got too close. He looked around for a place that could be secured against the zombies. His eyes fell on the post office. It was solidly built, with stone walls, and didn’t have too many windows. He set foot on the steps and slowly climbed them, looking for zombies in every direction.  
   
“What are we going to do?” Ray asked uncertainly beside him.  
   
Gerard wasn’t sure. He wanted to help the people being attacked. He wanted to make sure Mikey was alright; _needed_ to know that he wasn’t hurt. But the most urgent thing was to make sure that there was someplace safe to hide.  
   
“Check that it’s empty inside,” he said, nodding over his shoulder to the post office door. Ray nodded and went inside, hefting the axe in his hands. “Ray,” Gerard added just before he disappeared. “If you find any... zombies don’t feel pain and they don’t die. To stop them you have to remove the head.”  
   
“Right,” said Ray grimly, and then he let the door swing shut behind him.  
   
Gerard carried on guarding the post office from zombies with his lantern. He sent flames a few times into the crowd in the street, carefully because he didn’t want to accidentally scorch the people he was trying to help. As he pushed the zombies back, people saw what he was doing and came to stand behind him, seeking protection. Frank was one of them; he stood on Gerard’s right and gripped the branch he’d armed himself with, raising it to shoulder height.  
   
“I didn’t know you could do magic,” he said casually, as though Gerard had revealed an ability to knit or something equally mundane.  
   
Gerard didn’t reply; he needed to concentrate on controlling the fire and he was already feeling tired. There was a large group of people clustered at the front of the post office now, but in the street there were still a lot of zombies, some facing Gerard, and others closing in on the few people who hadn’t been able to get past them. Gerard kept a barrier of flame burning, keeping the zombies at bay, but he could feel himself getting weaker and knew that he couldn’t keep it going for much longer. He could see the group of people across the street huddling together, Lindsey at the front, holding what looked like a broken broom handle.  
   
   
“It’s the head, you’ve got to attack the head,” Gerard yelled as Lindsey prodded ineffectually at a zombie’s chest. She heard him call out and reacted, lifting the stick up and ramming it, pointy end first into the zombie’s face. The zombie staggered, not dead but clearly stunned, and Lindsey hit out at another zombie on her other side. At that moment, a loud rifle report split the air, and a third zombie dropped to the ground. A second shot rang out a moment later. It didn’t seem to hit anything, but enough of a gap had been cleared that the small group raced across the street and joined the others at the post office.  
   
Gerard looked towards the sound of gunfire and saw Bob and Mikey, both holding rifles. They ran towards Gerard, who nearly dropped the lantern in his relief.  
   
“Mikey, thank God,” he said fervently.  
   
“What the hell is going on?” Mikey asked.  
   
Gerard sensed people moving behind him and turned around. He saw that Ray had reappeared.  
   
“It’s clear in there,” said Ray. “We need to get everyone inside.”  
   
Everyone crowded into the post office and they closed the heavy wooden doors. Bob and Ray went around trying to block the windows, while Gerard lit the other lanterns in the room. Once the post office was as secure as they could make it, he looked around.  
   
There were people everywhere. He recognised all of them; Northbrook was a small town. It was too crowded and confused inside to try to figure out who hadn’t made it; he could hear people calling out names, looking for their families. Other people were weeping, sobbing. Gerard found Mikey and grabbed his arm.  
   
“What the fuck?” Mikey asked.  
   
“I know,” said Gerard in a low voice. “You think maybe Wal...?”  
   
“Oh. You mean, maybe he actually...”  
   
Gerard and Mikey shared a glance for all of a second, and then Bob appeared, saying, “So, I couldn’t help but notice that our town is being attacked by dead people, and also, you can shoot fire. And you knew the zombies were coming before they got here. So maybe you can tell us all what the fuck is going on.”  
   
Everyone was looking at Gerard, and he hated it. Their faces revealed their thoughts: _oh, those Ways, always knew there was something odd about them, should have known_. It reminded Gerard of before. Still, he really did need to explain what was going on.  
   
“You know Mikey and I came here from Akron?” he began. “From the city of Nelson? I was at university there, studying to be a mage.”  
   
He could see the reaction on everyone’s faces, _oh, that explains the strangeness_ , and then Frank spoke up and said, “So that’s how you knew – they taught you about zombies in wizard school?”  
   
Gerard sighed and said, “Not exactly. That sort of magic, it’s not allowed. But, well, I had this friend at the university. Wallace Hampton. We were... very close friends, for a while. But he was ambitious, and powerful. It took a long time for me to see what he was really like.” Too long, Gerard thought privately. The dead people in the streets of Northbrook were just another burden his conscience would have to carry. “Wal was the one obsessed with zombies, an army of living dead that he could control. I tried to talk him out of his schemes, but he wouldn’t listen.  
   
“I put it off for a long time, but in the end I went to the senior mages at the university. They’re some of the most powerful mages in the world, you know. But when I told them what was happening, I found out Wal had talked to them first. He’d told them I was jealous of his power, that I wanted to make myself look good and was trying to get revenge for some argument we’d had. The faculty laughed at me and sent me on my way.  
   
“That would have been the end of it, but Wal was really furious at me. He spread rumours, he sabotaged my work. I went from being a good student to being, well, a bit of a laughing stock.  
   
“I left the university. But that wasn’t enough. He followed me; he got his friends to follow me. He left notes at my house. Our house,” he amended, nodding to Mikey. “They weren’t anything terrible. They were just supposed to make it clear that he knew where I was, and what I’d been doing. Word got around to the people we knew, rumours that I was dangerous, into dark magic. All the things Wal was doing... he got people to believe it was actually me. Eventually, I had to leave. I decided I wanted to get as far away from the city as I could. I was going to go by myself, but Mikey wouldn’t let me.”  
   
Gerard stopped talking and looked around the room. Everyone there was listening intently, and as they realised the story was over, the silence of the room eased a little.  
   
Mikey, who knew Gerard too well, waited until everyone’s attention had drifted a little to say, “It wasn’t your fault.”  
   
Gerard shrugged. It didn’t matter at this point whether it had been his fault or not. They just had to deal with the zombies who were still outside, and try not to be killed.  
   
They could all hear the sounds outside of zombies surrounding the post office. They hadn’t managed to break through yet, but Gerard was worried. They hadn’t had time to fortify the building properly. Their defences were limited to furniture pushed up against the windows. The door was locked, and too solid for the zombies to break down, but groups of people were clustered around the windows trying to keep the zombies from pushing through.  
   
Bob had reloaded the two rifles, and gave the second one to Frank. Lindsey got her own rifle, which she kept in a back room. They also had the club that she kept under the counter, and the axe Ray was still holding. It wasn’t much.  
   
“Is there anything else in here we could use as a weapon?” Gerard asked Lindsey.  
   
She shook her head. “Can’t you do that thing again? With the fire?”  
   
Gerard considered the lantern doubtfully. “I don’t think so. Magic is... I’ve used a lot already. I don’t think I can do much more.”  
   
Lindsey nodded and pursed her lips. “How many do you suppose are out there?” she wondered.  
   
Gerard was hesitant to answer that question, because he could only imagine that the number of zombies out there would be vast. Their little group of survivors would be outnumbered many times. Lindsey didn’t need to hear him say that to come to the same conclusion herself, and her face fell.  
   
“There’s a cellar, but it’s not big enough for everyone,” she said. “We should put the children down there.”  
   
Gerard gave that idea some thought, and said, “Are you sure? What if...” What if there aren’t any survivors, he wanted to say. What if the children are left trapped down there.  
   
Lindsey scowled. “I’ll show them how to open the door,” she said, and she moved off to gather all the children and show them where to go.  
   
Gerard went to the smallest window. The only thing blocking it was a stack of chairs, and Ray and Bob were trying to keep it from falling apart. Gerard hovered nearby, but there wasn’t much he could do. One of the zombies, displaying intelligence that Gerard would not have expected, grabbed the top chair and pulled it through the window instead of trying to push it away. It didn’t really fit, but the zombies pulled until the chair cracked and the legs broke off. Ray and Bob cried out in dismay, and Bob abandoned the chairs, instead lifting his rifle from where it stood by the wall and squeezing off a shot through the window. The clever zombie fell but was immediately replaced by two more. They shoved the remaining chairs aside and began trying to climb through the window. It was a tight fit and since both zombies were trying to squeeze through at the same time, they didn’t get very far, but the people inside still reacted with alarm when they saw what was happening. Ray lifted his axe and swung at the zombies, while Bob reloaded his rifle as quickly as he could.  
   
One of the zombies was nearly through the window. Ray swung a blow at the back of its head, and it slumped to the ground, motionless. But there were still more trying to come through, and Gerard knew it was hopeless. Eventually, they would be overwhelmed.  
   
Gerard was contemplating his dimly flickering lantern and wondering how much damage he could inflict if he used up his last dregs of magic, almost certainly killing himself in the process, when he heard Bob exclaim, “They’re leaving! They’re leaving!”  
   
Gerard looked at the window, and sure enough, the zombies were no longer pressing to get through it. They were backing away and turning around. He inched a little closer to the window to see better, and could see that the zombies were all moving in the same direction, and seemed to be leaving the town.  
   
“Are they leaving?” he heard someone ask. It was Jamia, he thought, but he wasn’t sure because he was unwilling to move his gaze from the window for even a second. No one answered her question; they were all wondering the same thing. Could it really be over so easily?  
   
When the last zombie was out of sight, Bob was all set to open the doors and leave the post office, but Gerard stopped him. “Don’t,” he said. “We can’t be sure they’re all gone yet.”  
   
The rest of the people in the post office didn’t like that idea so much.  
   
“So when can we leave?” asked Henry Farnsworth.  
   
“There might be people out there who need our help,” added someone else, to a chorus of agreement.  
   
Gerard pinched his nose tiredly. “If there are other survivors out there,” he said, “Then they’re either safe for the time being, or we can’t do anything for them.” Over the rising sound of argument, he spoke up, “Look out there, see?”  
   
He pointed through the window to a small body that could be seen lying in the street.  
   
“That’s Bryce Hand,” said someone softly. Gerard looked across the room and his gaze fell on Bryce’s mother, standing white faced and stiff with one hand clutching her shawl. His stomach twisted with sympathy for her, and he knew the point he was trying to make was cruel, but everyone here had to understand if they were going to survive.  
   
Gerard watched and waited, faintly aware of everyone else in the room doing the same thing. A minute or two passed, and people began to fidget, but it was then that Bryce began to move. He shouldn’t have been able to. Bryce was barely recognisable now. His clothes were soaked in blood and his limbs bent in ways that they shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have been able to stand. But he did. And then he slowly shuffled around, uttered a low moan, and set off down the street, veering slightly towards the right because his leg on that side just didn’t work anymore.  
   
Gerard listened to the whispers and gasps from everyone else in the room, and the quiet sobs from Mrs Hand. He knew he’d made his point, but didn’t feel any relief. He just felt sad.  
   
“What are we going to do?” asked Mikey beside him.  
   
Gerard realised that he’d already decided what he was going to do, the very moment he’d realised what had happened to Colin.  
   
“I have to go,” he said. “Mikey, those zombies just left. They left for no reason, when they had a room full of... of food. They’re being controlled by someone.”  
   
“By Wallace,” Mikey guessed instantly.  
   
“I have to go back to Nelson and stop him. It’s my...”  
   
“It’s not your fault.”  
   
“It’s my responsibility though. I knew what he was, but I chose to leave. I have to do this.”  
   
“You going somewhere, Gerard?” Frank asked from where he’d sneaked up behind Gerard. Gerard stifled a groan. “I’ll come with you! Someone’s gotta stop you being eaten. Mikey’s all right, but he can barely tell one end of a rifle from the other.”  
   
“Mikey’s staying here.”  
   
“The hell I am!”  
   
Gerard looked at Bob for help, but Bob simply looked back and said evenly, “I’m coming too.”  
   
Gerard backed away from an argument he realised he couldn’t win, and focused on Frank who might be more easily – well, not reasoned with, but browbeaten into submission.  
   
“Don’t say it!” said Frank before he could open his mouth. “And if you try to leave without me, I’ll just follow you. You know I’ll do it.”  
   
Gerard gave up and threw his hands in the air. He took a step away from the others and nearly bumped into Ray.  
   
“Sorry,” he said absently.  
   
“It’s okay,” Ray mumbled. “Are you really leaving?”  
   
“Yeah. I have to. I guess you think it’s a stupid idea too.”  
   
“No, I don’t. I think it’s... I think it’s brave.” Ray turned a remarkable shade of pink. Gerard watched with interest. “I think you’re brave. But you shouldn’t go alone.”  
   
Gerard had to acknowledge the truth of that. “I guess there’s not much chance of that happening, is there?” he asked.  
   
Ray grinned back at him. “None at all,” he said.  
   
*************  
   
Spencer was back in the cell. It was dark and cold, and he hurt. He hurt all over. His back was the worst, but his arms and legs were sore too, and his shoulders and hips hurt from lying on the hard uneven floor. His fingers and toes tingled from the cold. It sucked.  
   
There was a guard outside the cell. He’d been there since Spencer had been returned to the cell, and while Spencer didn’t know exactly how long ago that was, he supposed it didn’t matter much. He watched without much interest as the guard responded to a call from farther down the corridor, and marched out of sight. Then Spencer heard a voice which didn’t belong.  
   
“Spencer!” it whispered. “Spence!”  
   
 “Jon?” Spencer mumbled. “What?”   
   
“Shh!” said Jon. “Quiet. They don’t know I’m here.”  
   
Spencer clamped his lips shut and crawled over to the bars, to the corner where he could hear Jon’s voice. When he was close, he felt a hand clutch his wrist. He still couldn’t see anything. Jon was getting better at staying invisible.  
   
“Jon,” said Spencer, breathing the name out.  
   
“Spence, you all right?”  
   
Spencer didn’t bother to answer that question, instead asking, “Brendon and Ryan?”  
   
“They’re okay. They’re pretty upset.”  
   
“They’re not gonna try anything stupid are they?”  
   
“They wanted to storm the palace,” said Jon. “I talked them out of it. Didn’t think you’d like it if Marax’s soldiers sliced them up.” Jon was forcing a lightness into his tone, but what he was describing was all too possible Spencer just couldn’t find it funny.  
   
“Take care of them,” he said.  
   
“I will. Of course I will. They’ll still be in one piece when you get back.”  
   
That was when Spencer remembered how this whole situation had come about in the first place. “Did Ryan get it?”  
   
He heard Jon huff out a breath, angry and short, but nearly silent. “No,” he whispered. “The crystal’s been moved. Marax is being really careful.”  
   
Spencer wanted to cry. That meant the whole plan, and him getting caught, had all been for nothing. And without the crystal, the others wouldn’t be able to do anything about Marax, and Spencer would be stuck in this cell. He didn’t voice that worry out loud, though.  
   
Spencer startled back from the bars when he heard footsteps. He missed the touch of Jon’s hand on his arm, but he couldn’t risk the guard realising that someone else was there. He hoped that Jon had left already. Keeping the invisibility spell working for too long wasn’t good for him.  
   
Jon had to take care of himself now, so that he could take care of Ryan and Brendon.  
   
***********  
   
Since Gerard and the others had left Northbrook, there had been one cold, grey, wet day after another. First their clothes got soaked through. Then their shoes. Then their packs. All their spare clothing was wet, and they were running out of food. They were all tired, because they couldn’t often find places to sleep which were comfortable and out of the weather. And they were all grumpy, because of the first two issues.  
   
“For the last time, Mikey, I’m not going to carry your pack for you!” Gerard could hear Ray snap. “I’ve already got my own to worry about, thank you.”  
   
“But I’m sick!” Mikey complained, in a voice which was, admittedly, very nasal sounding. “Rayyyy...”  
   
“Keep away from me, you’re probably contagious!” Ray had been grumpy for days, because the rain had soaked through his hair, and it was hanging down below his shoulders. He complained that it was cold and uncomfortable and looked stupid. Gerard didn’t agree; he thought Ray looked great all the time. He shut that train of thought down when Frank appeared at his side.  
   
“Gerard, I don’t mean to complain...” said Frank. Gerard suppressed a sigh, because he was quite sure Frank did mean to complain. Otherwise, how could he possibly be so good at it? “It’s just that I don’t have gills, which is a shame, because I think I’d have an easier time breathing if I did.” Frank paused to cough dramatically. Gerard frowned, because there was no way Frank was faking how bad that sounded. Of course Frank wouldn’t let Mikey outdo him in the illness department, Gerard thought uncharitably.  
   
“But, you know,” Frank continued. “I don’t. All I’ve got is this stuffed up nose and these completely inefficient lungs. It’s a crying shame, really.”  
   
“What do you want, Frank?” Gerard asked at last.  
   
“Could we stop? For ten minutes? Or until I’m dry? Okay, well, maybe just for ten minutes. That’d be cool. I can stand in a doorway and remember what it was like to be dry, that would be almost as good.”  
   
They were passing through a town, a much larger town than Northbrook had been, but apparently deserted. Gerard looked back at the rest of the group. Mikey was pouting, Ray was pointedly not looking at him, and Bob had that expression on his face that said the next person who bothered him in the slightest way would not be around to bother him for very long. Gerard decided that a short rest was definitely overdue.  
   
They huddled in the overhang of a large building, out of the rain, and Ray passed around the last of the bread and cheese. They had been scrounging for abandoned food in the places they passed through, but the longer they travelled, the less edible food was still lying around. They’d been rationing carefully for days, but their supplies were running low nevertheless.  
   
It was lucky they had stopped, lucky that they were huddled under the eaves of an empty store looking out at the road. When a ragged figure shuffled into view some distance away, they all noticed it immediately.  
   
Since leaving Northbrook, they had seen some signs of survivors, but they hadn’t actually seen any living people. There were still plenty of zombies about, although not nearly in the same numbers as had attacked Northbrook that first night. They had managed to avoid them so far, with Gerard using the protective magic he knew to warn them if zombies were nearby, but it was hard to keep the magic up when they were moving. Gerard hadn’t even noticed that his spell had failed.  
   
This was a much bigger group than they had seen since Northbrook. “We should go back the other way,” Gerard said in a low voice.  
   
“You sure about that, Gee?” asked Frank. Gerard turned around. There were more zombies up the other end of the street. He started to sweat because this was bad news.  
   
“They haven’t seen us yet,” he whispered. “If we can get inside one of these buildings...”  
   
They didn’t get a chance to try. One of the zombies looked around. It uttered a moan which sounded like a parody of recognition, and began to walk unsteadily towards them. Other zombies began to follow it.  
   
It wasn’t like dropping a load of hay off to the sheep paddock at feeding time, and having them race across the pasture and nearly trample one another in their eagerness. Zombies were slow. They just never stopped. They weren’t much smarter than sheep, but they were a lot more persistent. Now that the zombies had seen them, hiding wouldn’t do any good. They would have to fight their way out. Gerard could tell the moment everyone else came to the same realisation. They all lifted their rifles and opened fire at the same moment.  
   
Gerard wasn’t much of a shot, and nor was Mikey. They had practiced with them since leaving Northbrook, but they didn’t want to make too much noise or waste ammunition. Gerard knew he and Mikey weren’t going to be much use here. Bob was an excellent shot, though, and Ray and Frank were nearly as good. They all fired at the zombies and then Ray pulled out his axe and Frank his club while Gerard, Mikey and Bob reloaded the rifles.  
   
Ray and Frank swung at the zombies and held them off, but there were a lot of them, and more were coming from down the street. Bob fired as fast as Gerard and Mikey could reload the rifles. It just wasn’t enough. A few of the zombies got past Ray and Frank, and one of them made a lunge for Bob. Bob started to turn around, bring his rifle around, but the zombie was already there and he wasn’t going to be quick enough. But Gerard’s rifle was right there, in his hand, and the zombie was right there, just a few feet away, and surely even he couldn’t miss at such close range?  
   
But miss is exactly what he did. Well, he missed the zombie. He didn’t miss Bob. Bob dropped like a stone, and the zombie crouched over him, reaching out its filthy bloodied hands. No, no, no, Gerard thought. This can’t happen.  
   
He abandoned any idea of trying to shoot the zombie. Instead, he reached inside himself to draw on every ounce of magic he could find. An instant later, the zombies surrounding them burst into flames.  
   
Mikey raced towards Bob and kicked the burning zombie to the side so it didn’t land on him. Gerard hurried over, hoping that Bob was alive and not too badly hurt. Bob looked up at him and mumbled, “I think you should let Ray and Frank handle the weapons from now on.”  
   
“Bob, oh God, I’m so sorry...” Gerard ran his eyes over Bob, looking for the wound. Bob’s right sleeve was drenched in blood. He pressed his hands over the wound, wincing in sympathy when Bob hissed with pain.  
   
Gerard heard footsteps behind him, and hoped that it was Frank and Ray, because he just didn’t have the energy to deal with more zombies right now.  
   
 “Your hands are cold,” Bob mumbled. Gerard nodded and shivered. He was cold all over. He’d never used so much magic in a single spell before. They weren’t going to be able to travel any further today; even if Bob was up to it, Gerard needed to rest.  
   
“We need to find somewhere to hide,” he said, his teeth chattering violently. Ray grabbed his arm and helped him up, while Mikey and Frank lifted Bob. They left the ashes of the zombies behind them and limped down the street. Gerard wasn’t paying much attention to where they were going or how far. Sometime later, Ray leaned him against a wall and carefully eased open a large, heavy door. Gerard wrapped his arms around himself and tried not to fall over. He’d stopped shivering, but he didn’t feel better.  
   
Ray took Gerard by the shoulders again and pushed him inside the building, with the other three following behind. Frank closed the door and he and Ray shared a glance.  
   
“You stay here and keep an eye on everyone,” said Ray to Frank. “I’ll go make sure there are no surprises.” Frank nodded, and Ray headed off, head up and rifle at the ready.  
   
Time started to feel like half churned butter. It was all runny and slippery, but with lumpy bits in it. Gerard closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, someone had cut the sleeve off Bob’s shirt and wrapped his arm in a bandage. Bob looked at him and said, “Your lips are blue.” Gerard hummed, and wondered if the rest of him was changing colour as well. Had his hair turned white? It felt like it might be white. He closed his eyes again while he tried to summon the energy to ask Bob if his hair had changed colour. When he opened them, Ray was back, and he was helping Gerard climb a staircase. Whoever had built the staircase had done a really terrible job, because the steps were all at different heights and kept moving, making Gerard trip. He closed his eyes again with relief when he got to the top of the staircase.  
   
The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a different room and Ray was unbuttoning Gerard’s shirt. Gerard wondered if he was actually dreaming this. It wouldn’t have been the first time. It didn’t matter anyway. He soon fell asleep again and this time it felt like he slept for a long time.  
   
When Gerard woke up, woke up properly, feeling warm and alert, he was lying on a blanket on the floor, with another blanket over him. Mikey was one side and Ray on the other. His clothes were draped over a chair across the room. Apparently, that hadn’t been a dream after all. Gerard surreptitiously checked that he still had his underwear on. He looked at Ray, still asleep beside him, and wondered how much of a creep it would make him to lift the blanket a little. He could make it look like an accident.  
   
Ray stirred just then, which was probably for the best. Ray blinked his eyes open and met Gerard’s gaze. “You look a lot better,” he said.  
   
“You took my clothes off,” said Gerard stupidly. Inside his head, a small high pitched voice shrieked at him, ‘What are you doing?’  
   
“Well, yeah,” said Ray. “Your clothes were soaked. We all were. And you were freezing, so. I was just trying to get you warmed up.”  
   
“Sure you were,” said Gerard, because apparently nearly freezing to death had made him incredibly stupid. “I’m sure you loved every minute of it.” While that same mental voice called Gerard a variety of colourful names, Ray caught his lower lip between his teeth. It might have been the most interesting thing Gerard had ever seen.  
   
“Well,” said Ray at last, “I would have enjoyed it a lot more if you’d been awake.”  
   
If Gerard had been awake, he could have undressed himself, so Ray’s comment didn’t make any sense, but... oh. _Oh_. “Oh!” said Gerard. “I get it!”  
   
A loud snicker from his other side told Gerard that Mikey had woken up. “Shut up, Mikey,” he grumbled. “I can’t believe you’re ruining this moment for me.”  
   
Ray blushed brightly, and pulled himself out of the pile of blankets. Gerard was briefly distracted by the view of Ray’s bare chest, but then Ray pulled on a shirt and Gerard realised he should probably say something. He got out of bed and padded across the floor to Ray’s side.  
   
“We could always try that again, some other time,” he said. “You know, when I’m not about to freeze my ass off.”  
   
Ray grinned a bit and dipped his head. “Definitely when you’re not freezing your ass off,” he said. “I like you with your ass on.” Gerard could feel his face turn bright red, and Ray giggled a little. “That’s a much better colour for you,” he said.  
   
“Get a room, you two!” called Frank from the blanket pile on the floor. Gerard and Ray stepped apart, and Gerard quickly got dressed, noting that his clothes were almost dry. He must have been asleep a long time.  
   
“Where are we?” he asked.  
   
“This place is a hospital,” said Ray. “Or it was. Lucky for us. There were plenty of blankets lying around, bandages for Bob’s arm. We found some food, too.”  
   
“Is it secure?” Gerard asked. “There’s a lot of windows.”  
   
“We’re on the second floor,” said Ray. “We blocked off the staircase, and nothing’s tried to get in.”  
   
Gerard nodded, and was about to ask how soon everyone could be ready to move on, when Ray cleared his throat.  
   
“Gerard,” he said, “What happened back there?”  
   
“You mean...?”  
   
“With the zombies. You nearly collapsed.”  
   
“I used too much magic.” Gerard remembered it, the cold empty feeling and the way his thoughts moved so slowly while everything else went so fast.  
   
“That can happen?”  
   
While the others had seen Gerard using his magic each day as they travelled, he hadn’t explained much about how it worked. It hadn’t been an issue until now.  
   
“Magic isn’t like, like just getting something for nothing,” Gerard explained. “There’s always a cost. Fully trained mages will spend months preparing a single spell, so that they can control the repercussions. It’s dangerous to cast a spell on the spur of the moment.”  
   
“So after setting those zombies on fire, when you got really cold...”  
   
“I took all the heat I had, and used it to create a fire. But it left me with nothing. It could have been worse. People have died from using magic without the right precautions.”  
   
“But you used magic back in Northbrook?”  
   
“Yeah, that was a bit different. I already had a flame, and I manipulated it. Starting a fire out of nothing is a lot harder.”  
   
“I didn’t realise. Each night, you’ve been casting those protection spells...”  
   
“That’s not... protection spells are a bit easier, and I had more time.” Ray still looked worried, so Gerard said, “Seriously, Ray, it’s fine. I know my limits, okay?” He reached out and took Ray’s hand, giving it a slight squeeze.  
   
Ray squeezed back and gave Gerard a reluctant smile. “We need to be more careful, so that doesn’t happen again,” he said.  
   
“No argument from me.”  
   
**********  
   
Spencer wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the cell. It was long enough that the wounds on his back scabbed over and started to heal, became itchy and annoying. He only knew that Jon came back every day.  
   
They didn’t get to talk every day. Sometimes, Jon explained, he would turn up and wait, and the guard wouldn’t leave, and eventually Jon couldn’t keep up the invisibility anymore and had to go. Those were the days Spencer waited hopefully for the guard to be called away for a few minutes, only to have silence follow. Those days sucked.  
   
They could never talk much, for fear of someone overhearing. Once, Jon had let his voice rise a little too loud. The guard had come marching back, and Spencer had had to pretend he was singing a song to himself, until the guard threatened to come into his cell and shut him up. Spencer quietened down quickly, because if the guard started moving around there was a chance he would walk into Jon.  
   
Most of the time, Spencer just sat by the bars and let Jon reach through to hold his hand. They couldn’t really hold hands, it would have been too obvious. Spencer would just let his arm rest on his leg or on the ground, and Jon would put his hand over it. Spencer took comfort from it, nonetheless.  
   
“I wish I could bring you some food,” Jon said one day. “Do they feed you at all?”  
   
“Not much,” Spencer answered, not bothering to lie.  
   
“Maybe I could sneak something down here from the kitchens.”  
   
“No, don’t,” Spencer said straight away. “You’ll get caught.”  
   
Jon couldn’t turn other things invisible, only himself. He couldn’t carry anything while the spell was in effect. He couldn’t even wear clothes, which was something Spencer, Ryan and Brendon had found simply hilarious when Jon had explained his abilities, but was less amusing now that Spencer could feel Jon’s shivers through the touch on his arm.  
   
“You’re using the spell too much,” Spencer said one day. “You should stop coming here. There’s nothing you can do for me, and you’ll make yourself sick.”  
   
“You let me worry about that,” said Jon, and he wouldn’t hear any suggestion of not returning to Spencer’s prison. Secretly, Spencer was glad.  
They hid in the empty hospital for over a week.  After a few days, Gerard and Bob had recovered enough to travel, but by then, although Mikey had gotten over his cold, Frank had just gotten sicker. They all worried about him as his cough grew worse and his fever soared. Finally, after five days, he seemed to pass the worst of it. A day after that, Frank was complaining and arguing and insisting that he was well enough to travel. Three days later, the rest of them finally relented and they packed up their things and set out once more.  
   
It had been nice to have a week’s reprieve, although it had also been frustrating, and tedious. Gerard felt the need to track down Wallace more and more urgently, and between that and his worry over Frank and the need to keep watch for zombies, he had barely slept. At least all their things were properly dried out now, and they had had time to cook food to travel with, which would last for several days at least. Gerard had taken the time to make his own special brand of lamp oil.  
   
“It’s not that the oil needs to be made any special way,” Gerard explained to Ray as they wandered through the hospital late one night looking for ingredients. “It’s more that I need to put the effort into making it myself. It’s like paying for the magic I use ahead of time.”  
   
Ray had nodded and said that he thought he understood, and then they had kissed. Gerard knew he was worrying Ray, because he hadn’t been resting much and Ray was still concerned about his recovering from overusing magic. Ray had been spending a lot of nights sitting or walking with him. They hadn’t done much more than exchange kisses, but Gerard had found that more than enjoyable, if a little frustrating. The novelty of knowing he could do that, and that Ray wouldn’t object, would welcome it even, had been amazing. It had taken several days for Gerard to get used to the idea.  
   
Things were different once they started travelling again. There was less time, less privacy, less security. They stole a moment every now and then, but often it was more for the fun of having Bob tell them to get a room or Mikey pretend to vomit. There just wasn’t much opportunity to act on all the things Gerard was suddenly allowing himself to feel, which was probably why, when the opportunity arrived, Gerard took it without thinking twice.  
   
They were drawing close to Nelson, and the zombies had grown more numerous. They were being doubly cautious now, but their supplies of ammunition were severely depleted. Once they reached the outskirts of the city, they decided to find a safe place to hide and make plans before going any further.  
   
Mikey picked out the house; it had thick walls and a cellar, and looked like a good choice. They spent an hour or so making fortifications, and then they agreed that they should do more scouting. Mikey, Frank, and Bob volunteered, because it was obvious to all of them how eager Ray and Gerard were to get some time alone. It was dangerous, but after several weeks travelling through zombie infested country, they all felt more or less ready for anything.  
   
The three of them took the remaining weapons and left the house, waving goodbye in a fairly cheerful way. Given the situation, everyone seemed quite light-hearted. Ray and Gerard especially.  
   
Gerard turned to Ray, who had stepped in close while he wasn’t paying attention. He put his arms around Gerard and they kissed. It was nothing they hadn’t done several times in the past few days, but this time there was the promise of it leading to something more.  
   
They continued to kiss as they undressed one another, and Gerard enjoyed each new revelation. He let his hands run over Ray’s chest, his arms, and down his waist, letting his thumbs hook into Ray’s underwear. He didn’t take much notice of his own clothes being removed, and wasn’t even sure how they came to move from where they had been standing to the couch across the room.  
   
Ray’s hands were huge, and with every touch from them Gerard became more excited. He retrieved some of his special oil from his pack and Ray put it to good use. It wasn’t the wildest or most creative sex Gerard had ever had, but it was with Ray, who held him close and kept things just the right side of too slow until it was nearly over.  
   
“When are we going to do that again?” Ray asked when they’d both had a few minutes to recover.  
   
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to at least need a nap first,” Gerard answered. He wrapped his arms around Ray and they cuddled together on the couch. He felt better than he had in days. Ray was feeling better too, more at peace and more hopeful about what they were going to try to do. Gerard’s brow furrowed as it occurred to him to wonder how he knew that.  
   
“What’s wrong, Gerard?” Ray asked. “You’re worried about something.” Ray pulled back and looked down at Gerard intently. “You’re worried,” he said, “And you’re feeling guilty for some reason.”  
   
“Oh, fuck,” said Gerard.  
   
“What happened?” asked Ray. “And why can I feel whatever you’re feeling?”  
   
“I didn’t know this was going to happen,” said Gerard, mildly panicked.  
   
“That what was going to happen?”  
   
Gerard could feel Ray’s anxiety building in response to his own reaction. He was trying to figure out how he could explain, when they heard footsteps pounding towards the house.  
   
“Oh, crap,” said Gerard, leaping off the couch and pulling on whatever clothes he could find.  
   
 “That’s my shirt,” he heard Ray say behind him, but he was already heading towards the door by then and didn’t have time for such trivialities as whose clothes he was actually wearing.  
   
It was Mikey at the door. “Help,” he pleaded. “Help, Gee... there were too many of them.”  
   
“Where are Frank and Bob?”  
   
“I don’t know.”  
   
Gerard followed Mikey out of the house, and Mikey led the way back to where he’d lost track of Bob and Frank, back to where they’d been attacked by zombies. “What happened to your rifle?” Gerard asked.  
   
“I dropped it,” said Mikey. “I was out of bullets anyway.”  
   
That was bad news. Gerard shot a worried look at Ray, who frowned back at him. He could _feel_ Ray’s concern that they’d lost another rifle, that Mikey had used up all that ammunition, that Frank and Bob were still missing.  
   
They found Bob along the way, where he’d been hiding halfway up an oak tree. Mikey sobbed a little when they saw him, and raced forward to wrap Bob in a hug. Ray put his arms around both of them, and Rays’ feelings washed over Gerard again, a surge of relief tempered by an even sharper worry for Frank. They kept going.  
   
“It was up here,” Mikey said, as they came towards a small open area between houses. Gerard could see the bodies of the zombies they had killed. There were a lot of them, leaving a trail from one small side street to the other side of the square, where Gerard could see a zombie sprawled out with half its head blown away. Gerard shuddered to think how close it must have been for the shot to leave such damage. Behind that zombie, another crouched with a rifle clutched in one hand. After a moment, Gerard realised it wasn’t a zombie, zombies didn’t use weapons. It was Frank, and with the rifle he was holding, he was...  
   
“Frank, no, don’t!” Gerard yelled, throwing himself forward. Just in time, he shoved his hand against the rifle barrel, pushing it away from Frank’s chin. The shot clipped the edge of a wall and a few pebbles rained down.  
   
“Gerard?” asked Frank’s shaky voice. “Why did you... that was my last bullet. Why did you do that?”  
   
It was only then that Gerard took in the rest of Frank, the torn clothes, the bloody gashes and the despair in his eyes.  
   
“Oh, fuck, no.”  
   
*********  
   
Before Marax, before everything had gone wrong, Brendon, Ryan and Spencer lived in two rooms in an abandoned tenement building. They didn’t have trouble defending their territory; no one else wanted it because it was eight floors up and climbing the stairs was a pain in the ass. It was comfortable, though, and Ryan liked the view.  
   
After the zombies, though, things were a bit different. Most of the other squatters were dead or turned, and there were suddenly a whole lot more abandoned houses in the city. They could have set up somewhere new, taken one of the really nice houses for themselves. In the end, though, they’d decided that it was best to remain unobtrusive. That was what had saved them in the first place. That and Jon. The university had been the first place to be attacked, but Jon had managed to spell himself invisible and escape. He’d found Spencer and warned him of what was happening. Once the initial crisis was over they decided they should keep moving, change their hiding place every few days. That had become even more essential once they had started planning ways to annoy Marax.  
   
At the moment, Brendon, Ryan and Jon were using a small house out of the main part of the city. Like all the places they chose, it was well built, had a cellar and at least four handy escape routes.  
   
Right now they were walking along a quiet street not too far from the house. Brendon was walking a little distance away from Ryan and Jon. Not too far away, because that wasn’t safe, but as far away as he could without worrying them. It was getting harder and harder to be around them. Jon was always exhausted, and Ryan had been getting quieter and sharper every day since they’d lost Spencer. They were all so worried about him.  
   
Out here, in the abandoned parts of the city, most of the houses had been broken into. Windows had been smashed, and mirrors. Some of the nicer houses had glass or even crystal table wear. All those things were useful, things Jon could use to cast his invisibility spell. These days he was spending a lot of time invisible. Too much, but neither Brendon nor Ryan were willing to suggest that Jon take a day to rest. That would mean leaving Spencer alone.  
   
They were collecting quartz, too, for Ryan. They’d been collecting it every day, with the idea that they might be able to come up with a plan and rescue Spencer. They hadn’t come up with anything that seemed likely to work yet, but when they did, they’d be ready.  
   
There were a lot of zombies around this part of the city, but they had all grown pretty good at avoiding them. The secret was not to move too fast. The zombies were slow, and they seemed to be able to tell that running people, fast people, were still alive. They assumed anything that moved slowly was another zombie.  
   
It made it easier to hear them coming, as well. They had all learned to recognise the sounds zombies made. They tended to be noisy when they walked, because they couldn’t lift their feet properly. And they would moan, or snarl if they were angry.  
   
But zombies never, ever, spoke, so when Brendon heard voices up ahead engaged in a fierce argument, he knew something was up.  
   
Brendon looked at Jon and Ryan, who looked back at him. They had heard it too. They gathered together and crept towards the voices.  
   
“No,” one voice was saying. “No, I’m not going to let you! No way!”  
   
“You have to, Mikey. Please, you heard what he said. He doesn’t want to turn into one of them.”  
   
“No!” said the first voice, sounding close to tears. “This is Frank! He’s our friend!”  
   
“Once he wakes up, we’ll just be meat to him, Mikey.”  
   
“Frank doesn’t eat meat.”  
   
“That isn’t Frank anymore!”  
   
Brendon reached the corner and could see what had happened. A group of four people were standing together, gathered around a fifth person lying on the ground. The one on the ground had been injured, Brendon could see the blood, and it was obvious what they were talking about.  
   
“He’s going to wake up soon,” said a large blond man. “We need to kill him, before he turns. It’s what he wanted, Mikey, he asked us to!”  
   
They hadn’t noticed Brendon yet, and he hesitated to get too close, but then Mikey closed his eyes and turned away. The blond man pulled a knife from a sheath at his waist. That spurred Brendon to step forward.  
   
“Wait!” he called. Behind him, he could hear Jon and Ryan quietly cursing him, but they stepped up behind him. The group in front of them spun around, looking panicked. Brendon held up his hands in a way he hoped was non-threatening.  
   
“Is he dead?” he asked, nodding to the body on the ground.  
   
“He was bitten by one of them,” said a third man, not Mikey or the blond one.  
   
“Right, but... did they kill him?”  
   
They all just looked at Brendon blankly, so Brendon looked behind himself for support. Jon was better than him at explaining this. Jon was the one who’d explained it to the rest of them.  
   
“Some of the zombies are dead,” Jon explained. “They get wounded fatally and then the spell takes over, and they do whatever they’re told. But if it’s not a fatal wound, then he’s still alive. It’s just that the bite does something. It stops people thinking for themselves. They’re just as dangerous, but if the spell ends, he’d go back to normal.”  
   
The four men looked back at the one on the ground, and Mikey crouched over him. “They’re only superficial bites,” he said, a thread of hope colouring his words. “I don’t think he’s dead. But what should we do when he wakes up?”  
   
Jon looked back at Brendon and Ryan, asking a silent question. They nodded their answer to him.  
   
“Come with us,” said Jon. “There’s somewhere you can put him.”  
   
***********  
   
“I can turn invisible,” Jon was explaining. Gerard listened with interest. “So I sneak into the palace all the time. I spy on Marax and listen to his plans. That’s how I learned about how the spell works.”  
   
Gerard looked at Jon, noting the huge shadows under his eyes, the way his clothes hung off him. “You should be careful about using magic so much,” he said. “You could hurt yourself.”  
   
Jon shrugged impatiently. “I’m not going to... we’ve got this friend. Spencer. We were all trying to mess with Marax’s plans, but then he caught Spencer, and now he’s in the cells. I can get in to see him, but we haven’t figured out how to get Spencer out yet. We will. But I’m not going to leave him alone in the meantime.”  
   
Gerard nodded. They were hurrying down an empty street to a place that the three kids had told them was safe. Bob and Ray were carrying Frank between them, and as Gerard looked at them, he was struck again by Ray’s emotions; his worry and his slight fear that Frank would wake up before they were ready. Gerard wondered how he was going to explain the situation to Ray, and where he was even going to find the time to do it.  
   
“So how did all this start?” Gerard asked.  
   
“Marax used to be a student at the university, I guess? And then he graduated. I guess he was expecting that the Chancellor would name him as his successor? Because, you know, the Chancellor rules the city?”  
   
Gerard nodded. In Nelson, the city was ruled from the university. To rule one was to rule the other.  
   
Jon went on. “I only started at the university this year, so I don’t really know. But there was all this gossip, that the Chancellor had picked his successor, but then the guy turned bad, and Marax wanted to replace him but the faculty said no. We think Marax killed most of the faculty and turned them into his first zombies, but he kept making more. He’s got everyone in the city too frightened to stand up to him. He started giving out these things.” Jon held up a small token, like a coin. “If you’ve got one of these, the zombies won’t attack you. But he changes them all the time, and if you make him mad, you don’t get a new one. This one’s old; it doesn’t work anymore.  
   
“The zombies do what he wants. He’s got this big crystal ball. He keeps it in the palace, and he uses it to command the zombies. He can’t tell them anything specific but he can make them go where he wants. It doesn’t work on all of them, like, there are still lots of zombies hanging around here, but there are so many now he doesn’t care.”  
   
 “So Marax _sent_ the zombies our way. They’re not just wandering and looking for food; they’re under his orders.”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“He’s trying to take over the entire continent.”  
   
“Yeah. Once the zombies have been everywhere, he’ll round up the survivors and lay down the new law.”  
   
“We’ve got to stop him.”  
   
Jon frowned. “We’ve been trying... we had this plan to get into the palace and steal the crystal. But he moved it and Spencer got caught, and now we can’t do anything in case he hurts Spencer again.”  
   
“Do you know where-“  
   
“Shit!” exclaimed Ray. “He’s waking up!”  
   
Frank was starting to twitch and moan. Ray gripped Frank’s shoulders and tried to hold him still, but Frank turned his head, snapping at Ray’s hands. Ray jerked his hands away like they’d been burned.  
   
They all stood uncertainly with Frank in the middle of the group, and Gerard wondered how they could contain him now. Frank turned towards Bob and began to lurch towards him, but then Ryan stepped up behind him, reached out and put a hand on Frank’s shoulder. Frank went taut. He made a horrible sounding scream and seemed to glow from inside. After a second, he dropped to the ground, unconscious again.  
   
“What the hell?” said Bob.  
   
Ryan nudged Frank with his toe. “He’ll be out for a bit,” he said. “We need to get him tied up before he comes to.”  
   
Ryan’s magic, as he described it, involved directing currents of energy. “Like lightning, but smaller, and he can send it wherever he wants,” Brendon explained. Gerard found the idea fascinating, but there was no time to give any more thought to it beyond the ways it could be useful to them.  
   
When they had stumbled across the three boys, they had been out collecting materials for spells. Stockpiling useful components seemed like a great idea to Gerard, so once they had Frank secured they headed out to collect some more. Brendon showed them how they could trick the zombies, and Gerard got the idea, although he’d never seen a zombie bounce that much.  
   
They headed out, and Ray insisted on going with Gerard. Gerard supposed they were due for that talk now.  
   
Ray didn’t ask; he didn’t have to. Gerard could feel his demand, his need for an explanation, and somewhere between all the excitement of the past few hours, he’d put together an idea of what he was going to say.  
   
“Wal and I weren’t just friends,” he began. “We were together. For a while.”  
   
Ray nodded, and waited for Gerard to continue.  
   
“He got this idea... there was this spell he wanted to cast. On us. A bonding spell.”  
   
“A bonding spell?”  
   
“Yeah. It’s... like, it creates a, a bond.” Gerard flapped his hands, trying to think of the right words that would explain the situation to Ray without freaking him out. “Like a link between two people’s minds. You can feel what they feel, and you always know where they are, even if they’re far away.”  
   
“Why did Marax want to cast that on the two of you?”  
   
Gerard shrugged. “He said it was because he loved me so much... I’d sort of started to realise by then that he didn’t really love anything. I think he just saw it as a way of controlling me. So, I said no. He didn’t listen to me. He cast the spell anyway.”  
   
“So... you and he are...”  
   
“Oh, no. No. See, to, um finalise the spell, you have to, um. You know.”  
   
“Oh, right.”  
   
“Yeah. We fought, and I got away. I think what happened was, the spell just sort of hung around, unfinished, and then, the first time I, you know. With someone. It sort of... latched on to that person.”  
   
“To me.”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“And now you and me are in this... bond?”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“How long does it last?”  
   
“Um. Well. It’s pretty much a ‘till death do us part’ sort of deal.”  
   
“It’s _permanent_?” Gerard was aware of sharp spikes of panic emanating from Ray. He’d been able to sense Ray forcing himself to keep calm all this time, but that was being tossed out the window now. “Can it be reversed?”  
   
“I could look into it, but I don’t think so.”  
   
“So... what does that mean? What if we, like, split up, went to different parts of the country...”  
   
“No, um. Well. There are some, sort of, like, limits? To how far apart we can be, and for how long...”  
   
“Oh my God. And we’re stuck like this?”  
   
“I guess so?”  
   
“You guess so? Come on, Gerard, you don’t even have a clue what’s going on here.”  
   
“I didn’t know this was going to happen, Ray! Come on, you don’t think I would have let anything happen between us if I’d known, do you?”  
   
“No.” Ray stopped in his tracks. His emotions had become more and more confusing to read as their argument had escalated, but Gerard could identify hurt and anger. “No, of course you wouldn’t have. I think I’m going to head back now.”  
   
***********  
   
It seemed like it had been longer than usual since Spencer had seen Jon. Well, not _seen_ Jon, it had been weeks since he’d seen Jon, but. Spencer thought it had been some time since Jon had come to see him.  Of course, the only way he had of measuring time was Jon, so he couldn’t be sure.  
   
Still, he was enormously relieved when he heard Jon’s low whisper.  
   
“Jon,” he said, “You were gone for a while.”  
   
“Yeah,” said Jon, “Sorry about that. Listen, some things have come up. We think we sort of have a plan to get you out of here.”  
   
“Don’t you guys risk yourselves for me, Jon, it’s not...”  
   
“Don’t you even finish that sentence. Just listen. This is what you’re going to have to do...”  
   
*********  
   
Once they had worked out what they were going to do, there was no reason to delay putting their plan into action. So the very next chilly dim morning found them taking up their positions around the palace.  
   
Jon was going in first. He had sketched out for everyone else a rough map of the palace layout, so they knew where they needed to go. But the first step was Jon going in alone to create a distraction which would hopefully attract most of the guards.  
   
Gerard could tell it was working when the guards on the front steps began to shift nervously, glancing back and forth from the street and then back into the palace. They didn’t leave their posts, though, but that was as they had expected.  
   
Gerard, Ryan and Bob started to walk down to the palace entrance. They had to make it look just right; if they seemed too nervous or hurried, the guards would be suspicious. If they acted too casual, the guards would be suspicious. They reached the steps, and one of the guards stepped down, raising a hand.  
   
“Stop there,” he said. “No one may be admitted to the palace without proper clearance.”  
   
“Proper clearance?” said Gerard. “Wait a second. Let me see what I’ve got.” He made a show of searching through his pockets, while the guard stood by looking bemused. He drew it out as long as he could, giving Ryan plenty of time to get into position. When the guards turned slightly to exchange an incredulous glance, Ryan struck, shocking first one and then the other into unconsciousness.  
   
They dragged the guards to a little room Jon had pinpointed on his map, tied them up and stole their uniforms. Bob’s was a perfect fit, but the other uniform was huge on Gerard. He rolled up the trouser legs with a shrug, and he and Bob grabbed one of Ryan’s arms each.  
   
They marched Ryan down the hall, trying to look as though they were meant to be there. Through the bond, Gerard could feel that Ray was moving, entering the building. Things had been tense between them ever since their argument, but they had agreed that the bond might give them an advantage, if they could use it to keep track of the whereabouts of each group.  
   
They reached the wide staircase, and started to climb it. “Look as though you’re struggling,” Gerard hissed to Ryan. Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, and then began to pull against his hold.  
   
“Let me go! Get off me! Oh, no, crap, grab me again!”  
   
“Not quite that realistic, okay?” Gerard muttered, and Ryan gave him a dirty look.  
   
They were getting close to the destination Jon had shown them on the map and they hadn’t encountered any opposition, but of course, that was too good to last. A man stepped around a corner a little way ahead, wearing a similar uniform but with far more adornments.  
   
“What are you doing up here?” he asked. “This isn’t where you’re to bring prisoners.”  
   
“Um...” Gerard tried to think of something to say, but was distracted by a sudden rush of emotion from Ray, a sense of alarm and urgency that nearly knocked him over.  
   
“There’s a disturbance happening downstairs, didn’t you hear?” Bob asked. “We’ve been ordered to move the prisoners for security.”  
   
The guard nodded at that, and for a minute it looked like Bob’s lie had worked. But then the guard asked, “Where exactly are you going to put him?”  
   
Bob looked blankly at Gerard, who could only stare back at him. Jon’s description of the palace hadn’t included suitable places in the upper levels for holding prisoners. The guard looked expectantly at them for a minute, then opened his mouth and yelled. “Guards!”  
   
Bob reacted quickly, letting go of Ryan and lunging forward to punch the guard in the face. It was too late, though, they could already hear the sound of rushing feet. “Hurry,” Gerard said. Not bothering to keep up their deception any more, they ran down the hall, counting doorways until they found the right one. Gerard tried the handle, but it was locked tight. That was okay; they were prepared for that.  
   
Gerard took a candle stub from his pocket, and Ryan lit it with a spark. Gerard focused on the flame, fitting his mind around it, imagining it smaller, but stronger and hotter. He took that razor sharp heat and directed it at the lock of the door. The flame cut through the metal like it was butter.  
   
The guards were nearly upon them. Ryan reached out, directing a bolt of lightning towards them and scattering the guards. Gerard shoved the door open and stumbled through it, looking around the room with wide eyes. Ray’s panic had subsided a bit, but his emotions were still a steady thrum in the back of Gerard’s mind.  
   
Looking around, Gerard’s gaze fell on a large, clear ball sitting on a shelf in the corner. “This must be it,” he said, picking it up. It was heavy, and too large to carry comfortably.  
   
“What now?” Bob asked. “Should we smash it?”  
   
Gerard considered the crystal, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Marax is the one controlling the zombies, the crystal is just magnifying and transmitting his messages. If we can defeat him, we might still need the crystal to stop the zombies and change them back. But we’ll need to keep it close.”  
   
“We have to find Marax, then,” said Ryan. “And fight him.”  
   
Gerard nodded. He felt Ray in his mind again, a short burst of triumph and relief. “They’ve got Spencer,” he told the others. “We should head downstairs again.”  
   
They moved back into the hallway, Gerard carrying the crystal. They hadn’t gone far before someone spoke behind them.  
   
“Oh, Gerard, surely you weren’t going to leave without saying hello?”  
   
Gerard turned around slowly, his heart stuttering in his chest. He wasn’t ready for this. He’d thought he was, but that was wrong, as it turned out. He wouldn’t ever have been ready for this.  
   
“Wallace,” he said evenly.  
   
Wallace’s face twisted into something ugly. “It’s Marax, now. Lord Marax, Master of the Dead.”  
   
“Very imposing,” said Gerard. “That’s almost not a ridiculous title at all.”  
   
“Shut up!”  
   
“Why are you doing this?” Gerard asked, trying to shift the crystal into one hand so he could reach into his pocket with the other. “You want to be in charge? By the time your zombies are finished, no-one will be left alive for you to rule.”  
   
“Don’t be foolish, Gerard, you know as well as I do there are plenty of survivors out there. And not all the zombies are dead, some of them can be restored. There will be plenty left for me to rule over.”  
   
As Wallace spoke, Gerard noticed something odd behind him. A knife moved through the air, appearing to float across the floor. Jon, Gerard thought, and he moved his gaze back to Wallace, hoping the mage hadn’t noticed his brief distraction.  
   
“If you were willing to rethink your wilfulness, Gerard, you could join me. You have power. I could use someone like you.” The knife reached a point a few feet behind Wallace’s back. Gerard held his breath. “And you... ah!” The knife lunged forward and seemed about to strike home, when Wallace spun around, lifting a hand. The knife froze, and a moment later, Jon became visible, his right hand wrapped around the hilt. His eyes were huge and frightened.  
   
“Invisibility,” Wallace said. “That explains a lot. You stay right there and don’t move.” Jon’s legs folded and he landed on the ground on his knees. Wallace twisted his hand, and Jon’s back arched. He dropped the knife and his hands reached back behind him. Jon’s frightened expression twisted with pain.  
   
Wallace turned back to face Gerard. “Hand over the crystal,” he said, “Or I’ll kill the boy.”  
   
Gerard froze briefly, and then reluctantly stepped forward, holding the crystal before him. Behind Wallace, Jon was trying to speak. “D-dooon,” he said. “Cryst’l... powerrr.”  
   
“Shut your mouth, boy!” shouted Wallace, swinging around and lifting both hands.  
   
“Don’t hurt him!” Ryan reached out and lightning shot from his palm, arching through the air. It struck Wallace and he staggered back. Gerard handed the crystal off to Bob, pulled from his pocked a length of thread, and quickly tied it into a complicated knot, creating a barrier across the hallway. Bob went to Jon’s side where he had collapsed, and Ryan pulled off his cloak, putting it around Jon’s shoulders.  
   
“I should have known you wouldn’t dare try to face me alone,” Wallace sneered, sounding rather out of breath. He looked up and examined the barrier Gerard had created. “Not really up to your usual standard,” he said. “You’ll have to do better than that.” He pulled a scrap of parchment from his sleeve and ripped it in two, and Gerard’s barrier fragmented like dry leaves.  
   
Gerard stepped back nervously, darting glances to the side at his three friends. Jon and Ryan could barely stand, and Gerard knew there was nothing they could do. They had used too much magic already. Bob looked fiercely determined, but he was no match for a powerful mage.  
   
Wallace sneered. “Right,” he said. “Enough of this.” With a wave of his hands, Wallace conjured up waves of bluish fire. They raced across the ground like large, deadly dogs, and as soon as Gerard extinguished one, two more replaced it. He slowly backed away down the hall. Wallace gestured again, and Gerard heard a crash behind him. He looked back to see that the floor had collapsed, and they were trapped. He concentrated harder on repelling the magical fire, but he could feel himself tiring.  
   
“How can he use so much magic without hurting himself?” Ryan asked.  
   
“He’s using the life force of all the people he’s killed,” said Jon. “That’s what I was trying to say... He sends his orders out through the crystal, but with the crystal he gets back energy from the people who die.”  
   
“So we smash it?” Bob asked, preparing to do exactly that.  
   
“No! If we break it we can’t reverse the magic. We have to get control of it somehow.”  
   
Gerard wondered how they could do that, but it was a brief thought quickly smothered by his efforts to keep the fire at bay. Another part of his mind suddenly clamoured for attention. It was Ray. He hadn’t been thinking of Ray since the fight started with Wallace, had been too distracted, but now Ray was nearby.  
   
“To hell with the zombies!” Bob was saying. “We are about to die, right now. We can find another way to save Frank, once we’ve stopped Marax.”  
   
Abruptly, the blue fire stopped. Gerard looked down the abruptly still hallway and saw that Ray, Mikey, and a boy he didn’t recognise but who he figured must be Spencer, had appeared from the other end. They were being chased by several guards, but ignored them in favour of charging Wallace, shouting and clutching sticks. Wallace tossed them aside with his magic, but he was distracted.  
   
“Go help them,” said Gerard, and he dropped to the ground to examine the crystal.  
   
Crystals were tricky things to use, and Gerard had never been particularly good with them. Still, he was holding it and Wallace was busy, which should give him an advantage. The crystal was slightly warm in his hands, which told him it was being used. Gerard ran his hands over it, looking for flaws but not finding any, and trying to see if he could tap into Wallace’s communication. He could sense the orders that were being sent out, but it was like hearing a voice through a thick wall, sound with no meaning. He visualised that wall in his mind, then imagined a door in it, a door that he could open. And then he could hear Wal’s thoughts flowing steadily.  
   
“...under attack. Come back and fight the intruders! The palace is under attack. Come back...”  
   
He was calling the zombies back for reinforcements, Gerard realised. Who knew how long ago he’d begun sending that message. Most of the zombies would be too far away, but there were still a few around the city. They could be climbing the palace steps right now. Gerard knew he had to hurry.  
   
He reached along the edges of Wallace’s thoughts looking for the places where he was tying his mind to the crystal. He found the anchor points, and wondered if he could break Wallace’s mind from the crystal and seize control of it himself quickly enough that Wallace would be unable to stop him. Wallace was distracted, but Gerard was sure he would notice if anything interfered with his connection to the crystal.  
   
Gerard looked down the hall and saw where his friends stood between him and Wallace and his guards. Bob was on the ground, and Mikey crouched over him. Spencer, Jon and Ryan stood in front of them, but they all looked battered and weary. As Gerard watched, the guards surrounded them and pulled them apart. Wallace was facing down Ray, who was armed with nothing more than a broken sword. Gerard could see Wallace lifting one hand, could see his mouth move and his palm begin to glow with a bright light.  
   
Gerard wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was Ray’s fear or his own, or even whether the rapid chant of _no no no no no_ in his mind was coming from him or from Ray. He set his mind against Wallace’s and _pushed_ , shoved him out of the crystal and reached out with his own mind. With a wave of revulsion, he felt the life energy of hundreds of murdered people filling him. His mouth twisted with disgust and he wanted to be sick, but he made himself reach out, reach out towards Ray and pull.  
   
Ray flew backwards across the floor with a surprised yell, and Wallace’s spell struck harmlessly against the place where Ray had stood a moment before.  Wallace looked at the blank, smoking hole in the floor and blinked like he didn’t understand what had just happened. Then he looked at Gerard and said, “Oh, no. Help... help me. Gerard?”  
   
Gerard recoiled. Wallace’s flesh crawled on his skin, and he began to shudder. His lips curled back, and he screamed, and screamed. Some of the guards went to Wallace’s side and tried to help him, but there was nothing they could do.  
   
“He’s dead,” said one guard. “He’s dead!”  
   
No-one seemed to know what to do, and in the silence that followed, Gerard heard the sound of dozens of zombies advancing down the hallway. Reaching out mentally to the crystal again, he commanded, “Stop.” The guards looked on as the group of zombies stopped in their tracks.  
   
“Bob, Ray, take them down to the cells,” said Gerard. Then he addressed the guards. “You had all better cooperate,” he said, “Or I’ll set the zombies on you.”  
   
**********  
   
Things had happened a bit too quickly for Spencer to follow. He remembered the part where Marax was dead. He was pretty happy about that.  
   
Jon, Ryan and Brendon had fallen in with a bunch of new guys while Spencer had been gone, and one of them was a mage. He was the one holding the crystal and telling the zombies what to do, stopping them from attacking. Then he did something else, and the zombies changed. For some of them, it was like waking up. They looked around with confused expressions and said things like, ‘What? Where am I? What happened? Why do I smell so bad?’  
   
For other zombies, it was like they fell asleep. Dropped where they were standing, and didn’t move. They weren’t sleeping, Spencer knew that. They were going to be hiring a lot of gravediggers. Maybe that was a job he could apply for, Spencer thought with bitter humour.  
   
They had gone around the cells, releasing all the junior mages who Marax hadn’t bothered to kill. Now those mages were having an argument about who was supposed to be in charge, because none of them were powerful enough mages to fill the Chancellor’s post.  
   
“Gerard,” said one of the mages, “Chancellor Dinwiddie had you appointed as his successor before you left the city. We need your help now.”  
   
The big blond guy gave Gerard this astonished look and said, “You’re like a wizard prince now? What other secrets have you been keeping?”  
   
The guy with lots of hair didn’t say anything, and rather pointedly didn’t look at Gerard at all.  
   
Spencer didn’t care much about any of it; all he wanted to do was go home and bathe.  
   
When they got back to the house there was a guy in the cellar all tied up and complaining about it. All the new people gathered around him, hugging and saying happy-sounding things.  
   
“He got bitten,” Ryan explained. “They thought they were going to have to kill him.”  
   
Spencer nodded, and shuddered a little bit at the idea of having to kill Ryan, or Brendon, or Jon. They had all been so lucky that that hadn’t happened.  
   
“Are you alright?” Brendon asked, on his other side. None of them had gone more than a few feet away since Marax had been killed.  
   
“I thought,” Spencer admitted, his voice hitching, “I thought I was never going to see any of you guys again. I thought, one day, Jon would stop coming, and I’d never know if you were all still okay...”  
   
“No, Spencer, no.” Ryan reacted first, but Jon and Brendon followed soon after, surrounding him between them and holding him firmly. “We weren’t going to let that happen. No matter what, we weren’t going to let that happen.”  
   
Spencer nodded and tried to pretend like he wasn’t crying. He looked around the little room. “I can’t believe it’s over,” he said. “I still keep expecting... I don’t know.”  
   
“Yeah,” said Brendon. “All the way back here I was checking over my shoulder for zombies.”  
   
“What’s going to happen now?”  
   
*************  
   
Gerard was ready to sleep for a month. He’d spent the day arguing with the rest of the mages, trying to secure a scholarship for Ryan at the university for next year, and attempting to get some sort of provisions made for Spencer and Brendon. The mages hadn’t put up too much resistance; they knew they owed Gerard, and the four kids as well. Gerard was more worried about how intently the other mages were still trying to talk him into staying in Nelson permanently.  
   
It was a harder decision than he would have thought it would be five years ago. He’d become attached to Northbrook and the people who lived there. People like Frank and Bob. They would want to go back, and Gerard would miss them if he stayed in Nelson. They were Mikey’s friends too, but Gerard knew if he stayed in Nelson, Mikey would do the same, and he would also be separating Mikey from his friends. It would have been a complicated decision even without the Ray issue.  
   
He wasn’t going to keep Ray from going home, and it wasn’t like he didn’t want to go back himself, but the idea of being stuck in a small village with someone who resented him wasn’t really appealing. They still hadn’t talked. Sometimes, Gerard could tell Ray was looking at him and feeling sad. It bothered him that he couldn’t fix it.  
   
He realised that he was thinking about Ray because he could sense Ray coming towards him. He wondered if he would have enough time to get some work and pretend to be busy, or failing that, hide in a cupboard... but of course Ray would know where he was anyway.  
   
“Hey,” said Ray, coming to a stop in front of him.  
   
“Oh, Ray. Hi,” said Gerard, wincing as his voice came out falsely bright. “What’s up?”  
   
“Not much. Um. I was wondering. About the bond.”  
   
“Oh, yeah. That,” said Gerard. He wanted to slap himself. As though he could have forgotten about the bond.  
   
Ray gave him an odd look. “Yeah, that,” he said. “You said there were limits on, um, how far apart we could be, and for how long, but you didn’t specify what they were.”  
   
“Yeah, well. I’m not really sure. Each bond is a bit different, you know?”  
   
“Okay. But, so... if we did get too far apart, what would happen?”  
   
“I guess, there’d be discomfort? And maybe physical issues. If the distance got too big, it could be dangerous.”  
   
“And time?”  
   
“The same sort of thing. So, I guess we should stay close to one another until we work out how long we can be apart for. Like, it’s been a few days, now.”  
   
“A few days? We’ve been together the whole time.”  
   
“No, I mean it’s been a few days since you and I...”  
   
“Wait, what?” Ray looked mildly panicked. “You mean we have to have sex?”  
   
“Oh, no. No, no. That would be... no. But, um, physical contact? Like, we should maybe hold hands or something.”  
   
Gerard held out his hand, and Ray looked at it for a minute. He reached out and took it in his own hand, and Gerard was surprised to find he instantly felt better. He hadn’t realised just how stressed and on edge he’d been until now.  
   
“Wow,” said Ray absently. “That’s unbelievable.”  
   
Gerard nodded. He could feel Ray’s emotions more clearly now they were touching, and his inner turmoil was a little easier to read.  
   
“You’re really mad at me,” Gerard noted, trying to keep the hurt from his voice.  
   
“I know this isn’t your fault, Gerard, but... yeah. We go and sleep together, and then it turns out we’re stuck with this permanent bond and we can’t ever be apart again-“  
   
“I’m sorry about this...”  
   
“-And you don’t even want me, so I guess I am feeling a little bit pissed.”  
   
“Wait, what?”  
   
“I admit it, okay, this whole situation has got me really upset...”  
   
“Not that. Why do you think I don’t want you?”  
   
“Huh?” Ray looked confused. “You told me, Gerard. You said if you’d known what was going to happen, you never would have had sex with me.”  
   
“Well... yeah, Ray, because you didn’t know! I wouldn’t... I would never intentionally create a bond with someone without their consent! But that doesn’t mean I don’t...”  
   
“Oh,” said Ray. “Oh, wow.” His expression was changing slowly, all the lines smoothing out while his eyes slowly lit up. Gerard could feel Ray’s hurt and unhappiness, all the feelings of dissatisfaction that had been niggling at him for days, draining away and being replaced by something else.  
   
“Oh,” he said again. “Gerard. You love me.”  
   
Gerard could feel his face burning. It was the way Ray said it, like he’d just discovered lost treasure somewhere he’d never thought to look for it. Gerard went to pull his hand away, but Ray wouldn’t let go. “I’m sorry,” Gerard said. “I was trying not to make you feel uncomfortable, pressure you. I know what that’s like.”  
   
“Gerard,” Ray said. “Can’t you feel it?” He held Gerard’s hand more tightly, and then Gerard could feel it, feel the way that Ray loved him back.  
   
It wasn’t like something in a fairytale, like the perfect love of the prince and the princess when they met for the first time. It was all potential, and hope. A beginning, not an ending.  
   
 “So, I think,” Ray said slowly, “I think I’m going to kiss you now. Just so you know.”  
   
“I’m okay with that.”  
   
“Just checking. Wouldn’t want there to be any misunderstanding. Since, you know, even with this bond thing we seem to have a communication problem.”  
   
“Stop being a jerk and kiss me.”  
   
And that was what Ray did.


End file.
